Bill Barnes Air Adventurer, July 1935 — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AIR ADVENTURER and his crowd. He’ll be expecting us anyway. French troops might spoil everything.’ “T’ll get you a trustworthy Betsileo. He knows the whole island thoroughly, and he won’t be in the way if you run into trouble. He is one of the few natives who fought with French troops during the War.” Bill and Shorty shook hands with Sturgis Benton and left. “T’ll have the guide at your hotel at any time you wish in the morning,” he said before they departed. “Five o'clock,’ Bill answered. “‘That’ll give us lots of time to poke around to- morrow.” XI—AN ULTIMATUM THREE MEN and a girl sat at a small metal table in one of a series of unburned brick houses and barracks on a wind-swept plateau of Imerina, the chief province of Madagascar. They were an ill-assorted lot. Far to the southeast in a purple haze that rimmed the horizon loomed the rolling Ankaratra Mountains. To the west, outside the crudely built fort that housed the barracks, parade ground and arsenal, thousands of hump-backed cat- tle grazed. A few miles to the east and west flowed forked tributaries of the Betsiboka River alive with gigantic, man-eating crocodiles. Placed at stra- getic positions along the walls of the fort were raised machine-gun platforms that commanded a sweep of the plateau in every direction. On ithe outer edee of the parade ground, spaced at intervals, mobile anti- aircraft guns pointed toward the indigo sky. Anchored in concrete in the center of the inclosure were a dozen howitzers and long-range naval rifles that com- manded the rocky country directly to the south of the fort.. To the north, east and west the place was practically -large faces were cruel. 63 immune to attack because of the Betsi- boka River. A half dozen men could hold the place against an army approach- ing over the steep, rocky country to the south. | Thousands of tall, muscular Malagasy natives milled about within the fort and tended the grazing cattle outside. Bare- footed, attired only in breechclouts, their black bodies rippled and gleamed under the play of powerful muscles. A ser- geant, wearing a colored sash and an automatic about his waist to indicate his. rank, drilled a company of infantry in a far corner. His voice floated across the parade ground to the ears of the three men and the girl. . Adolph Boettner and Hans Zimmer- man regarded Eric Heilner’s hideously scarred face with cold, metallic eyes. Their blue eyes were as hard as their In the deep- brown eyes of the girl, Cistra Boettner, there was an expression of terror and fear. She shuddered as she saw the sinister evil stamped on the faces of those three men. She spread her grace- ful hands on the table, palms upward, in an expression of appeal. — “Why can’t we drop this whole hide- ous thing?” she pleaded. “I never would have agreed to come with Uncle Adolph if I had known the truth. Nothing but murder and violence and Se, “shut up, Adolph Boettner roared at his niece. The girl winced as though she had been struck and turned appeal- ing eyes toward Hans Zimmerman and Eric Heilner. But they were not inter- ested in her appeals now. They were interested only in the survival of their plans. “Most - - girls,’ ~Adolph —Boettner growled, “would jump at the chance to become a queen. You'll rule this island when we have completed our plans. You “Tf you don’t have your throat stretched,’ Heilner sneered. COmmcMooolkx<s.conm